Subjective Omniscient Tale
by DoubleCaramel
Summary: A narrator who has been around to see it all sets the record straight. A tale of how Draco discovered red could be entering the genetic code of the Malfoys and the argument and discussion that preceded.


Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me; all I do is play with the characters.

Note: This story did not pass through a Beta. Beware.

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**Subjective-Omniscient Tales #1**

I am the eyes and ears of the Malfoy manor - something as cliché as that can be said for the present occasion. Yet when you wander around the noble house of blonds for more than a few centuries, poetry is no longer something that fascinates you. Besides, being the only ghost in this residence (since the others all insisted in finding out what the eternal light was all about), my depiction of reality through strong words and excellent sense of vocabulary is no longer needed.

I have a rather boring existence one could say. The most interesting moments I now experience are when young Draco decides to throw a fit and whine. It is always amusing. Ever since he was two years old and frowned at his mother not letting him jump on the silk beds up till now, his deprecating facial features always pleased me.

_Curious,_ are you?

Today, as your narrator, I will reconnect myself with the poetic and attention-grabbing words I once was proud to toss away in a snobbish voice while describing the moon in twenty different ways. I will do so to tell you the tale of how the yellow and at times white strands of hair were eliminated from the Malfoy genetic code. How Draco Malfoy passed the rest of his life wishing he had kept his royal and honourable mouth shut at dinner

It all started with an argument, or like he preferred addressing the matter: a lively **discussion.**

_Post-Scriptum :_ Let's not forget the marital discussions that enter in my tale. They are quite fashionable to tell, n'est-ce pas?

**. . .**

**How it began - An introduction**

**(Une petite introduction)**

"A Muggle?"

Those were the last words Draco Malfoy said before his son left. Bits of Brussells sprouts were seen flying from the man's mouth. The clear white table cloth was turned unclear by the red wine that tinged its white colour with big round stains. Stains that were created because a crystal cup tumbled with the aggressiveness of the man. _Yes_, the same man who's mouth was spewing bits of green. Actually, analysing the scene, it was quite suitable that the vegetable in question was Brussell sprouts for their texture suited the décor of the dining division.

But let us steer away from the surroundings and into the matter at question: Scorpius Malfoy, the young heir (teenage heir would be more accurate), had just revealed, as you might have guessed, that he was dating nothing less and nothing more than a Muggle.

( Muggle : _A non-wizard. Most Muggles are unaware that wizards exist and wizards (used to magical ways of doing everything) are perplexed and fascinated by Muggle artifacts.)_

Draco didn't want a Muggle (see above definition abbreviated and adapted for a more objective and friendly reading experience from the book "Malfoy : A superior Race" found in _the_ library ) as a daughter-in-law. So he did what he always did: he whined. That is when our story starts.

**. . .**

A door slamming was heard as the moon shined over the Malfoy manor and a man could be found passing back and forth in a small room. A small room that I will not waste words describing. It was a small room and that is all you need to know.

"_I knew this would happen! The day I saw Lucius pass I knew the family would fall to disgrace. I knew it!" _Came the voice of Edna from one of the most antique portraits in the manor. Her rough voice rang very close to the ears of our protagonist

_Draco Malfoy_ (who I forgot to describe earlier) was a tall man with blond hair and a rather big nose that was addressed as aristocratic by his admirers. He was in in every single way a clone of all his actual and passed relatives. He breathed deeply and moved towards the window banister trying to shut down images of the previous disagreement. Yet the comments filled with disapproval coming from the portraits that filled the manor weren't helping, _especially_ Aunt Edna's close rant of what he had made of the family.

Perhaps he should burn them or at least threaten to do so. A soft knock on the door saved him from his Aunt's rant as the babbling portrait finally shut up. He turned his head to find his wife holding a tray of tea, wearing a calm smile. His wife was also blond yet was luckier in genetics. Her face was soft and kind, lacking the harshness her husband's features possessed. But don't mistake her angelic features for her personality; no one ever became a Malfoy by being nice.

"Are you feeling better. I never thought I'd see the day you'd be arguing-"

"I do not argue!" he snapped, returning his gaze to the boring scenery outside the window. In his opinion Malfoys did not argue, they _discussed_. But never did the Malfoys argue or raise their voices to fight. That action – arguing – was reserved to those of lesser education and who did not have the privilege of being a Malfoy. For example, Muggles and Weasleys.

Yet the showdown him and his irresponsible son had at the dinner hall had come scarily close and over the boundaries of arguing.

His hand moved to rub his forehead and his wife poised the tray and came over to him massaging his back while saying in a soothing tone "It is normal for you to have lost your temper. Just remember that he is your only heir and we are getting old. I'd rather like to have a grandson before I die."

"Don't be ridiculous 'Ria, we are still young."

. . .

Confused? Perhaps this is the time for an intermission. Yes?

**- Intermission #1 -**

Astoria, the woman who is talking about children with Draco was indeed quite young. She, alike her husband, was in her early forties. Don't wrinkle your nose at her age. If you looked at her you wouldn't give her more than thirty. Remember, dear reader, one day you will reach those years and being deprecated as old isn't enjoyable. Of course you will never feel as old as I do. A clue, I was here when Napolean, the Muggle man with a fountain fetish, was born.

But back to the subject in discussion. As I was saying Astoria, or 'Ria as Draco insisted on calling her, loved children. In fact, she always wanted to have more, but as she was so obsessed with maintaining her figure (so she could enter the stylish designer dresses she loved to wear) she soon gave up after Scorpius. Besides, in her mind, grandchildren were more fun because she could spoil them without worrying about them becoming spoilt nuisances (that would be Scorpius's burden).

Now, let's return to present time, shall we?

. . .

"Well you never know. And this _girl_ he talked about doesn't seem all that bad. At least she isn't as vulgar as Pansy's Parkinson daughter and she also lacks the awful name. What was she thinking when she named her 'Kiss' ?"

"That her daughter should have a name as ridiculous and barb filled as hers."

"Well she was always immature. I will never understand what you saw in her." Came a fake disinterested tone from Astoria. This was a game she liked to play and Draco was just terribly easy to rile up.

"I was young and-"

"Hormonal?"

He bit his lips to avoid falling in the trap his cunning of a wife was setting.

To be honest, he will never truly discover why he married Astoria as she always had the tendency to make him go against everything Malfoy. Actually, now that he analysed the subject at hand he saw that it was probably her fault Scorpius was insane.

"You know, it's your fault. You used to take him to those Muggle parks while he was growing up. He was bound to fall in love with one of the dirty kids running around there." He said, grabbing a cup of tea and cursing loudly as his tongue realised he should have let it cool down a bit. Astoria ignored her husband's outburst.

"Darling, I know you have frustrations because your mother never let you play around in the mud. But I would like my son, unlike you, to grow up and develop forehead wrinkles _after_ he is thirty."

"I did not have wrinkles in my forehead when I was in Hogwarts!"

"Whatever you say, dear."

"Argh." His right hand brushed trough his hair that now lacked the quantity it had when he was younger, in frustration " You just love to do that, don't you?"

She waved her hand dismissively, but her answer to that particular question is evident in the silence and snort coming Edna's way.

"Back to what we were _discussing_, Scorpius is just sixteen, I doubt he will marry Belinda."

"I should hope so. She is a Muggle. Not even a inch of magic runs through her blood. I don't want grandsons that are squibs."

"I see you are warming up to the grandchildren idea." Astoria smiled excitedly as if already imagining all the shopping opportunities such idea coming true would bring "And as you already know Squibs are more prominent to be born in families who marry inside than from connections between Wizards and Muggles. If Scorpius does marry Belinda we would have blond light haired grand-babies!"

"You are squealing."

"And you are stating obvious facts. A little dense on the Malfoy part, no?"

"Honestly, why did you ever marry me?"

"It was true love the minute I saw you talking to yourself of how Muggle it was for Percy Weasley to interrupt his 'discussion'" She stops to draw theatrical quotes in the air just to annoy him

"with you to tie his shoe". She laughed, before adding. "Now, don't tell me you are going to pout?"

. . .

**- Intermission #2 - **

I know I am once again interrupting the scene and your perception of it, but I've gotten quite bored. When you are as old as I am and it is never enough to say that I am old - as old as the oak trees that render safe harbour for young children and love bitten teenagers (_Oui, Je sais que je suis poétique_!) - you get easily bored. You no longer see the fascination in endless banter and obvious flirting. But I am deviating. What I wanted to explain is that I am getting uninterested in the young couples jabbering so I will fast forward the action until Edna interrupts them once more.

. . .

"Oh, stop it will you? He probably isn't serious about the darned girl. My Adhil also had his fun with a Squib who worked in the Hog's head before he married Tibursa."

"_Silencio._" Astoria's said shutting Edna up. "Draco, why is _she_ still here?"

"You removed her from the hall!"

"Anyway." And let me tell you the way Astoria's eyes narrowed and her lips twitched this wasn't a vulgar dismissal but more of a 'We will talk later and you will do as I say'"You will have to give Scorpius the talk."

"What?"

"Yes, dear. He has reached that age were all young boy's must be embarrassed by their parents. I would do it myself, but I lack the correct anatomy and well I will enjoy seeing both of you uncomfortable."

"I am sure with what Blaise told me found him doing with Kiss last summer, he won't need my advice."

One moment of silence is wasted. People could say that it was a moment where Astoria stood shocked at her son's actions, but truth is she was just trying to come up with a better come-back. Such are woes of being a Malfoy.

"Jealous of your own son?"

"Don't be ridiculous. And aren't you supposed to be angry?"

"Why should mum be angry?"

Like an entrance prepared and rehearsed time after time in a theatre production, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy - another Malfoy clone, without the nose issue to which he had his mother to thank for - entered, clutching a rather suspicious looking letter in his hand. A letter that both his parents ignored.

Without skipping a beat his mother altered her demeanour and wore the motherly face she used so well when wanting to achieve her means "Nothing at all dear. Why don't you invite Belinda for dinner?"

"Hum, actually that's what I've come here to talk about." The 'hum' in this sentence wasn't a proof of nervousness. It was more of a pondered pause on how to choose his next words.

"Yes?"

"I, well - you know the saying ' prepare for the worst' ? I wanted to see Dad's reaction when I told him I was dating a Muggle. Seeing that he didn't murder or disown me, I think it's safe to tell that I am dating Rose Weasley."

What followed that statement was a loud thud, a gasp, a scream, laughter and the ever predictable sound of Astoria squealing, "_Pink haired babies_!"

I will leave what happened exactly to your imagination. I doubt that revealing that the thud wasn't from Aunt Edna's portrait falling down, that the scream didn't hold an "Avada Kedavra" from Draco or that the letter wasn't an Howler from Ron would please you. It is all best left for the imagination.

Here is where our journeys part. It was a pleasure to entertain you. I hope to be visiting you soon, perhaps you may suggest what tale I should tell next?

Not love, nor hate,

~ Rosier, _Drusilla_ ~

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

This is a response for the daily prompt (Argument) in the Hogwarts Online Forum. If you want to read other entries or subject your own it's a nice forum to join (Go!).

My response strays a bit far from "Argument" as the main theme. But I think it still follows the rules. I apologise for any typos or badly constructed sentences you might have spotted. Please point them out.

**NAMES:**

**Drussilla Rosier** is not a canon character although her family is related to the Malfoys (Druella Rossier is the mother of Narcissa Malfoy). Drussilla is Druella's grandmother. The name was chosen for it is related to some form of mythology (alike the some other female names of the Black/Rosier family).

**Edna's **name is just a random Victorian time period name I chose. She married into the family.

**Adhil **(Edna's son), name comes from a 5th magnitude north _star_ said to be in the train of the dress of the Chained Woman.

. . .

Reviews are welcome. I would love to know you opinion.


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